Ernest Howard Crosby Poems

AS I sit on a log here in the woods among the clean-faced beeches,
The trunks of the trees seem to me like the pipes of a mighty organ,
...

So he died for his faith. That is fine.
More than most of us do.
But stay; can you add to that line
...

NO one could tell me where my Soul might be.
I searched for God, but God eluded me.
I sought my Brother out, and found all three.
...

THE SOUL of the world is abroad to-night—
Not in yon silvery amalgam of moonbeam and ocean, nor in
...

I am a great inventor, did you but know it.
I have new weapons and explosives and devices to
substitute for your obsolete tactics and tools.
Mine are the battle-ships of righteousness and integrity—
...